


sunrise over florida

by dragonlisette



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Florida 2017, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlisette/pseuds/dragonlisette
Summary: Lester family holiday 2017.





	sunrise over florida

**Author's Note:**

> [originally posted on tumblr.](http://cityofphanchester.tumblr.com/post/160752287515/sunrise-over-florida) (inspired by [nihilist_toothpaste](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilist_toothpaste), who wanted fic about dan deciding to stay in florida.) 
> 
> (a nice what-could-have-happened that dan decided to poke holes in w/ the bahamas video. thanks dan.)

Sunrise comes soft and Easter-egg yellow, seeping into the sky like honey, the salty-fresh wind off the waves cutting through the warmer night air. Phil’s hand is cold and comforting in Dan’s – the beach is empty – they’re walking much closer than they usually do and Dan can’t bring himself to care very much.

“I’m going to miss you,” Dan says, quiet. Phil smiles at him sideways, crooked and bittersweet. His sunglasses cover his eyes, but Dan knows the expression in them all the same.

“You’ll have a nice time.”

“I will,” Dan says, and for just the barest fraction of a second he leans closer into Phil’s shoulder. “It’s a long flight with nobody to talk to, though.”

Phil tightens his grip on Dan’s hand and stops walking, tugging Dan to a halt.

“What?”

He nods at the horizon, where the moon is hovering tremulous above the water like a soap bubble. Dan breathes out a quiet  _oh_ , trying to get his phone out of his pocket without scaring the moment away. He takes pictures of the moon and the sky and the sea, and then he takes pictures of Phil, and then he puts his phone away with a lump in his throat. Phil offers his hand again, and he takes it, and then he batters down the guilt over immediately scanning the empty beach for eyes.

“We should get back,” Phil says quietly, and Dan pulls a face.

“Plenty of time.”

“You haven’t packed.”

“Irrelevant,” Dan says, and knows that Phil will worry until he has his things ready, knows that it’s time to go. He hesitates a moment before turning back. “I’m glad we walked and, y’know, the sunrise.”

Phil’s smiling, watching the sand. “Don’t start saying goodbye yet.”

“I’m not,” Dan says, and he is, and it was a walk to say goodbye, to have a moment alone together in the Florida air before Dan goes, and they’d both known it. “I’m just saying. I’m glad.”

“Okay,” Phil says, and then, “me too.”

* * *

Phil sits on the bed to watch Dan pack, offering unhelpful advice with his legs tucked up under him and his chin balanced on his hands. The two of them are very good at settling into guest rooms, their clothes tangled together on the floor, souvenirs and important papers mixed together on top of the dresser. Dan’s trying to work out which of the clothes shoved hurriedly into his suitcase are Phil’s when his voice comes quiet from the middle of the room.

“No one wants you to leave, you know.”

“The fuck are your clean socks doing with my washing?” Dan says, and then stops. Stops and turns. “Don’t you dare, Phil Lester, my flight leaves in three and a half hours.”

“I’m just saying,” Phil says, deliberately neutral, “that you don’t want to go, and Mum was complaining that she’s barely gotten to look at you, and I don’t want to third-wheel Martyn and Cornelia for a week when I could have you.”

“Phil.” Dan feels a little like he’s just been hit in the chest with a blunt instrument, so he sits down on the closest thing, which is the floor, and watches Phil’s careful expression. “I can’t.”

“Okay,” Phil says, soft, and he’s not going to press it, and Dan’s hand comes up to push his hair out of his face.

“I have my plane ticket already,” he says helplessly, something big and yearning tugging at his chest. Phil’s eyes flick back to him, a smile starting at the corner of his mouth, because when Dan starts pulling out logical arguments, the battle’s halfway won.

“Like we can’t afford a plane ticket here and there, Mr. Bahamas.”

“Shut up – fuck, Phil, I’ve got videos to script and an empty house to mope in – I wouldn’t want to overstay,  _shit_.”

Phil’s sliding off the bed, all earnest eyes and fingers grabbing for his wrists. “Don’t go. Call the airline, move it to my flight – you’re not gonna overstay, don’t you get it, you’re family.”

Dan’s heart is in his throat, adrenaline making his hands shake. His chest hurts with how much he wants. “I – ”

Phil sits back, lets him think. Dan’s head is spinning a little. He feels inexplicably eighteen, an awkward impostor on the Lester family Christmas getting smiles and warmth at every turn. He thinks he might actually cry.

“Only if you want.” Phil’s voice is gentle again. “I know you wanted Dan time to process everything. But you belong here just as much as I do.”

Dan can’t think of anything to say in response to that, so he gets his arms around Phil’s shoulders and clings. Phil’s laughing, hugging him back, and his eyes are bright when they separate. Dan smiles at him, a bit breathless still, and knows Phil’s gotten the message. “Your socks are in with my washing,” he says weakly, retrieving his phone from the floor, digging flight papers out of his bag.

“Good thing you’re staying, then,” Phil says, and hugs him fast before standing. “I’m gonna go tell them downstairs.” 


End file.
